Quiet Courage

6

"Alright pretty boy up you get!" Cienn heard the next morning just before a heavy slam to his stomach pushed the air painfully out of his lungs. He sat up to find a thick, straight branch laying across his lap. Rubbing his abdomen he glared up at the smug looking Kain looming over his bedroll.

"Come on!" he urged, and held out his hand for the young medium to grasp. Cienn just continued to glare at him and rose on his own, pulling on his boots first with additional vigor. He grabbed the blasted stick and stood next to Kain, who pushed a bread roll and a tin cup of tea into his hands and urged him to eat quickly. Cienn stuffed the bread in his mouth and tried not to burn his tongue on the tea, very confused by his rude awakening. Kain led him through the trees to a close by clearing beneath the trees.

"What in Movek's name are we doing Kain?" Cienn asked as he placed his now empty tin cup on a nearby rock and gripped his stick more firmly. Kain said nothing but instead turned and stood with his own stick poised in the fencing ready position. Cienn realized then that this was some sort of training session. With a grown of long held frustrations that welled up inside him he raised his stick in the ready position, his other hand held out behind him for balance.

Kain moved in with swift, smooth movements, gracefully moving across the sparring field faster than Cienn was expecting. He whipped up his stick as Kain moved in for an overhead attack, then yelped as Kain bluffed and swatted at his shins.

"Sloppy. Again." Kain said and went in for another attack. Cienn blocked each blow that time, but warily and without the grace Kain easily exemplified. After five rounds Cienn was breathing heavily, while Kain hadn't even really begun to sweat yet. Kain tsked disappointedly at him as he loomed over his hunched frame.

"Who taught you how to swordfight? You're awful at it." He said sincerely enough, and Cienn knew it was true. He'd always hated sword-fighting lessons back home, though he hadn't needed them as badly as he might now.

"Never... cared much... for fencing." He gasped around his breathing. Kain simply slapped him on the back good-naturedly.

"Too bad pretty boy. We've got sword training every day from now on. You can't rely on your magic for everything." And with that he walked back to the campsite. Cienn stood there a moment longer before he followed, wincing at all his new bruises and not excited for this new morning regimen.

They packed up their camp and were on the road within the hour, walking brazenly out in the open. As they crested a small hill Cienn noticed a short basalt pillar on the side of the road. Passing by it he felt a shiver race down his back and winced as his magic fluttered in the back of his head. He was getting better at noticing when his magic was acting up. Recognizing it by a tingle in the back of his head and along his spine. They passed a few farms and orchards, with late autumn workers coming out to wave at the infrequent passersby. People stood on the sides of the road and waved cheerfully at Cienn and his guards, who waved back without so much as a second thought.

"How are we safe here?" Cienn asked the backs of the two mages in front of him.

"This land is under the protection of the rebel forces." Charna explained, turning around in her saddle. "This entire valley won't show up on any Crown map. And most of the people who walk through here don't see more than an empty forest and a few scattered farms." Cienn was very impressed that someplace in the heart of the Kingdom could remain completely hidden. He was sure the pillar of stone they had passed had something to do with its protections.

The sun was approaching its zenith when Kain pulled Aludaria up next to a low range fence surrounding a cute cottage with an attached barn. An elderly woman came out and took their horses away for a rubdown while Kain led Cienn and Charna into the cottage and up to the room on the second floor. In it were a set of bunk beds and a small trundle bed set up on the floor. Kain dumped his saddlebags unceremoniously onto the trundle bed and flopped languidly onto a bunk.